The Ultimate Power of Being Done

POV: I’m done with authority. Completely done.

The whole concept of someone else reigning over me, telling me how to live, who to be, what to believe… I’ve played that game for lifetimes and it didn’t end well. This time around, things are different. This time, I say what needs to be said. If that chops off my head again, so be it.

I’m not here to be safe. I’m here to be fully present in a way no system can override anymore.

Ninety-nine percent of people will think I’m weird. Fine. I’m not here for them. I’m here for myself, my family, and that one percent who feel something crack open inside when someone speaks without bending.

And let’s not romanticise it. I still feel fear. Often. I just press publish anyway.

Speaking your truth should be normal. Not exceptional. Not risky. Just normal.

Every person who chooses to do it helps someone else remember they can too. That’s how balance shifts. Not through new systems or louder structures, but through people choosing to be real. When I stand in my truth, it creates space for others to stand in theirs.

I know that makes people uncomfortable around me sometimes. So be it. My bottom drive is love, not hate.

Speaking clearly can unsettle people. It’s rarely your words that frighten them. It’s the way your clarity loosens the structures they’ve been leaning on. When you speak without bending, something inside them shifts. The story they’ve been holding onto starts to tremble. And that can feel like danger when you’ve built your life around keeping things steady and familiar.

Keeping the peace. Staying safe.

But speaking your truth in a loving and sovereign way does not add to polarization. It adds nuance. A million extra colours instead of just black or white, pro or con.

Your words are not the threat.

For some people, honesty feels like exposure. Like suddenly there’s nowhere left to hide. That makes sense. We come from eras of inquisition, witch hunts, guillotines, slavery, oppression. Those histories left marks in our nervous systems and our bones. This takes practice. Training that muscle can sting.

Not everyone is ready.

And not everyone is meant to walk beside you or approve of everything you say or do. Let’s bring back healthy disagreement. Since when did that become illegal?

Your job is not to soften your voice so others can stay comfortable. You’re here to live what’s real for you. The people who are meant for you will recognise themselves. They find you faster when you show your true colours. I learned that in real time.

I sometimes struggle with sharing my story online too. Not because I don’t want to be honest, but because I don’t want it to become a performance. That’s real. And yes, it has backfired. It triggers some. And my inner good girl still twitches when she feels disliked.

That’s a muscle too.

It hurts at first. It gets stronger.

Here’s what I realised: I share my stories so you can recognise yourself. Not to centre me, but so that if something I’ve lived through helps you breathe easier, feel less strange, or remember you’re not alone in how you move through this world, then it was worth it.

I’m here to connect.

I don’t feel the need to perform my life for anyone. I have nothing to prove. I’m not trying to look enlightened, polished, ascended, or above anything. The thing I offer is the thing I am living. Alongside you.

I’m human. I laugh. I cry the ugly, snotty kind. I’m a raging dragon more than once a day, and I can be deeply gentle too. I mess things up. I do brilliant things. It’s the same movement.

I live in a good, healthy body on this planet. Not supermodel good. Not Olympic good. But strong enough to grow three beautiful children and litres and litres of full-fat milk. I am madly proud of that. I need warmth, good food, shelter, sleep, love, and yes, money and beautiful earthly things. I’m not pretending otherwise.

I’m not here to float above life. I’m here to embody my little magical godspark on earth.

And embodiment is where my work lives. In the real. In the grounded. In the moments that ask you to show up, especially when it’s uncomfortable.

Somewhere in the middle of this messy, beautiful human life, I’m finding my way and my mission. Navigating the same dense system you are, without trying to escape it. I don’t do role-play. I don’t rescue. I don’t override.

People move because they feel safe enough to see themselves. I won’t call you out. I won’t do the work for you. You’ll have the aha moment yourself.

That’s the deal. And it’s thrilling. And lighter than you think.

Being done with authority is not rebellion. It’s clarity. It’s the moment you stop outsourcing your compass. The moment you realise you don’t need a new hierarchy, just your own spine.

For those who are done pretending. Done shrinking. Done carrying expectations that were never yours.

It’s time.

Time to stand inside your own life. Time to own the game from the inside out.

Each of us. Together, but sovereign.

If you step into my space, I won’t fix you. I’ll hold the mirror steady. You’ll see yourself. And once you see yourself clearly, you move. Not because I pushed you, but because you’re ready.

This round on earth is different, and you know it.

We are different. Less willing to comply out of habit. More willing to choose consciously.

Our children are wired different, for sure.

If something in you sits up a little straighter reading this, that’s not inspiration. That’s recognition.

Come closer if you’re ready to stand in it.

Love, Annemarijn

We Broke Up, But We’re Still Friends

An Adult Love Story About Not Being Your Job Title

Here’s a story from my own front row seat.

Last year asked a lot of me. Not in a dramatic way, but in that unavoidable way where things simply stop fitting. Pretending they still do becomes exhausting. Especially the logistics of it all.

It wasn’t a year of gentle nudges. Some things I let go of consciously. Others were very clearly taken out of my hands by circumstances themselves. Doors didn’t just close, they quietly refused to open again. And other doors opened too. Doors I could not have imagined before. Funny how that works.

What surprised me most wasn’t the messiness or confusion.

It was the relief.

Especially the relief that came with letting go of an identity. A job title. Something I was busy doing, but that didn’t fully reflect who I am anymore. I didn’t realise how much effort it took to keep wearing it, and defending it even, until I finally put it down.

And here’s the nuance that matters: I’m still doing the work.

I just stopped letting it define me.

It shifted from “this is who I am” to “this is something I do, in my own way.” In that space, something else could emerge. I even ended up redefining what I’m doing altogether, on my own terms. That part surprised me too. It feels lighter. More fitting. More me.

This isn’t about career. It’s identity work. And I think it’s time we allow ourselves to separate those two again.

Somewhere along the way we started believing that the most professional, committed, respectable thing to do is to fully become our job. To merge our sense of self with our role, our title, our expertise. As if evolving means betraying what came before. As if letting something go automatically means you no longer love it.

But life changes. We change.
And shedding something doesn’t mean you suddenly hate it.

I still love animals. Deeply.
I still love the osteopathic approach, and I will happily die on that hill if needed. It deserves its place in the medical world. A bigger place even.
I still genuinely love the sessions I have with animals and their caretakers.

What has brought a surprising amount of relief and freedom is redefining what I actually have to give to animals and their people, without anchoring it to the title osteopath. Not because I reject it. Not because I don’t respect it. Quite the opposite.

But what I actually do has evolved so much over the past fifteen years that it no longer fits neatly inside what I once learned or how it’s usually labelled. So I ended up redefining what I’m doing with animals altogether, on my own terms. That part surprised me too. It feels lighter. More fitting.

And yes, it remains a gift that loyal clients and animals continue to find their way to me, despite all my ongoing evolution and experiments.

What I bring is my energy, my intention, my soft, listening approach. That comes with beautiful results. And with real limitations.

Both matter.

Along the way I’ve met so many incredible animals and people, and professionals deeply devoted to their craft. And honestly, I still think it’s one of the coolest things when forces can combine instead of compete. When different approaches are allowed to sit next to each other without needing to prove who’s right.

Letting go of a title doesn’t mean letting go of the work, or the love, or the respect for the field. It simply means giving it permission to evolve instead of freezing it at a point in time that no longer reflects where I am.

Because honestly, I still can’t fully explain what it is that I do. And I couldn’t before either. That used to stress me out.

Now I simply accept that part of my work lives outside neat explanations.

I work on intuitional autopilot. I feel, I listen, I attune, and then I move. And yes, I do it like a boss, with over thirty years of skill and education sitting safely in my brainy parts, fully available when needed. That foundation matters. It’s solid. It’s earned.

But methods, ratios and toolboxes are not the commanders in chief.

Something else is.

Something beyond titles, protocols and explanations. Something that can’t be neatly packaged or copied. And that’s exactly why I’ve stopped trying to explain it in ways that make it smaller.

The people who find their way to me don’t come for a label. Something in them recognises the field, the intention, the presence. And they trust that.

I love them for that.

I’m still very much in the middle of a changing season. I don’t yet know exactly where it’s leading me or what will rise out of it. But for the first time in a long while, that uncertainty feels less like a problem and more like freedom.

Looking back, I can see how much I was hiding behind certain roles. Not because they were wrong, but because they were familiar. Justified. Understandable for others. They gave me something to point at when people asked who I was.

Letting go of that didn’t give me answers. It gave me space.

And I’m still in it. Still shedding. Still listening. Still noticing how life nudges gently at first and then, when ignored, escalates.

I’ve come to trust that when something keeps slipping through your grasp, or keeps not working out as intended, it’s rarely punishment. It’s alignment trying to happen. With or without your cooperation.

So I’m genuinely curious: is there something you’re still doing, but no longer want to be?
A role, a title, an identity that once fit and now feels like effort?

If so, you’re not late. And you’re not broken. You’re probably just mid-shed. Right in the middle of becoming.

Love, Annemarijn (former animal osteopath, now just ‘Annemarijn’)

Marie Kondo Is Having a Cosmic Moment

On shedding skins, clutter, and the stuff we secretly know needs to go

Everyone loves the idea of big change.

Big moves. Big action. Big life. Cue dramatic music, wind machines, heroic slow motion hair flips.

And yet, if you look honestly at how change actually happens, it’s rarely that cinematic. More often, life moves like a snake. Not galloping forward, but shedding slowly and thoroughly. Sometimes uncomfortably.

And lately, I’ve been feeling that shedding phase everywhere. Not just mentally or emotionally, but almost physically. Like my whole system is quietly asking:

Why am I still carrying all this with me?

Old beliefs. Old identities. Old ways of doing life that once worked perfectly fine but now feel tight. Restrictive. Slightly ridiculous even. Like the jeans from 2014 still folded lovingly in the closet because, you know, maybe one day.

We all have those jeans. And the emotional equivalent.

The job title that once made sense but no longer fits. The relationship dynamics we keep repeating. The way we introduce ourselves at parties. The self-image we polish and maintain even though something inside us has clearly moved on.

And somehow, we keep dragging it all along, hoping it will magically become relevant again.

At some point, though, life stops being subtle.

Closets start overflowing. Calendars get too full. Your brain feels like a browser with fifty tabs open and one of them is playing music but you have no idea which one.

And suddenly, you find yourself on a random Tuesday afternoon pulling everything out of cupboards, asking: why do I even own this?

True story: even I, queen of avoiding overstuffed closets because they feel like emotional commitments, recently found myself emptying drawers and selling half my house online.

When I start voluntarily decluttering, you know something deeper is happening.

And that’s when Marie Kondo’s question sneaks back in, annoyingly effective as ever:

Does this spark joy?

Not polite joy. Not “this looks good on paper” joy. Not “my parents will approve” joy. But real joy. The kind that makes something in you light up.

And here’s the uncomfortable part: sometimes the honest answer is… silence. Or a hesitant “I have no idea.” But that’s not failure. That’s awareness.

Because this phase isn’t about fixing your life. It’s about taking inventory. Seeing what still belongs. What actually supports you. What feels alive. And what you’ve simply been carrying out of habit, loyalty to a past version of yourself, or fear of letting go.

The temptation, of course, is to skip this part and rush into action. New plans, new goals, big decisions. Charge ahead and hope clarity catches up later. But action without clarity is just chaos in activewear. It feels exciting for about five minutes, and then your nervous system taps out.

Sometimes the bravest move isn’t charging forward, but stopping long enough to ask: what am I still dragging into a future that clearly asks for a lighter version of me?

And shedding isn’t dramatic. Often it’s deeply ordinary.

It looks like cancelling things that drain you. Cleaning out closets. Ending conversations that go nowhere. Saying no more often. Admitting certain dreams have changed shape.

It’s telling yourself the truth about what still fits and what doesn’t. Clothes. Roles. Relationships. Expectations. Self-images.

And yes, that can feel uncomfortable. Because letting go of something familiar, even when it no longer serves you, still feels like loss. But underneath the clutter, something else waits.

Space.
Relief.
Room to breathe again.

And sometimes, unexpectedly, playfulness returns. Curiosity. Energy you didn’t realise you’d been missing. Not because you added something new, but because you finally stopped carrying what was already over.

So maybe this season, whatever season you’re personally in, isn’t asking you to run faster or achieve more. Maybe it’s simply inviting you to shed. To clean out what no longer fits. To tell yourself the truth.

And to notice, underneath it all, what still sparks real joy.

Because chances are, something alive in you has been waiting patiently for space.

Ready to find out?

You know where to find me.

Love, Annemarijn

It Is Not a Luxury to move before a crisis gives you “permission”

Something about the way we live has been bothering me for a while.

Not one dramatic thing. Just a pattern I keep seeing everywhere. In conversations, in coaching sessions, in friends, in myself sometimes.

We wait.

We wait until things fall apart before we give ourselves permission to change anything.

A body breaks down before we start listening to it.

A relationship explodes before we dare to say what’s actually going on. Work drains us to the point of burnout before we admit something needs to shift.

And even then, the change often comes with panic about money, security, or what people will think. As if wanting something better is only allowed once everything is already on fire.

But what if nothing is technically wrong? What if your life looks fine from the outside, yet something in you quietly knows it could be more alive?

More energy in your body when you wake up. More fun and meaning in the work you do every day. More money left at the end of the month without grinding yourself into exhaustion. More harmony, more spark, more ease in your relationship.

Why does even wanting that sometimes feel almost… illegal?

Part of it is conditioning. Problem-thinking runs deep in us. Scarcity is the water many of us grew up swimming in. Especially here in the Netherlands, with its deep-rooted Calvinist undertone: don’t complain, don’t stand out, don’t want too much, don’t think too highly of yourself.

Rest and joy are things you earn. Preferably after suffering first. Or after working very, very hard on yourself in every possible healing modality available.

Honestly, I’m done with that story.

And I’m not interested in replacing it with another fantasy either. I’m not here to promise you effortless success or hand you a neat ten-step plan to magically shift your mindset.

I’m interested in something much more direct, and often much more confronting: asking yourself what you actually want.

Not the sensible answer. Not the socially acceptable one. The real one.

Because there’s a question we almost never ask ourselves, and yet it sits right under the surface:

What is it costing me if I don’t move?

What does it cost to stay in a life that technically works but quietly numbs you? To keep second-guessing yourself while telling yourself you should just be grateful? To wait for a crisis so you finally have a valid reason to collapse and let go?

Most people don’t even know what they want anymore. Not because they’re incapable, but because they were never taught to look in that direction. From a young age, we learn to colour neatly inside the lines. To be good. To be reasonable. To fit.

And then, years later, we wonder why we feel stuck.

I do believe you can step into another version of yourself. Not by pretending your life is different, and not by bypassing reality. But by first getting radically honest about what you want, right now.

And by remembering that you are far bigger than the version of you that learned to play small. That inside this human bodysuit is something with far more potential than you were ever encouraged to use.

This is the work I love.

And it might surprise you, but I’m not interested in endlessly analysing your past. Your stories matter, of course, but they don’t get the microphone in my space. Spending months explaining why things won’t work rarely moves anyone forward.

What matters to me is the present moment.

What do you feel now?
What wants to move?
Where do you want to go?

And then we start moving. Immediately.

Sometimes the steps are small, just enough to get things rolling. Sometimes they’re bold. But they’re real, and they belong to you.

I want you dreaming beyond the version of yourself that learned to stay reasonable and small. Dreaming big doesn’t make you arrogant, selfish, or less loving. You can want more and still be a deeply kind, grounded human being. Those things don’t cancel each other out.

Working with me isn’t a luxury layer you add once everything else in your life is already perfect. More often, it’s what keeps things from having to blow up first.

For people who feel that itch but don’t need fixing, I am here.

No crisis required. No endless overthinking. No drama.

And if something in you feels slightly uncomfortable reading this, good. That discomfort is often where truth begins to move.

Maybe this is your moment to stop waiting for things to fall apart before you allow yourself to choose differently.

Give yourself permission. You know where to find me.

Love, Annemarijn

I don’t care about January 1st. I care about this.

I’ve never cared much about January 1st.

If all the New Year celebrations feel weird to you too, maybe nothing is wrong with you. Maybe the timing was wrong all along. We’ve been taught to “start fresh” at a moment when the earth is literally asleep. No light. No warmth. No movement. And then we wonder why our January goals collapse before February.

You’re not failing. You’re trying to bloom in winter.

Honestly… what genius decided that the “new year” begins in the darkest moment of the cycle?

The whole New Year partying thing has always felt off to me. Forced and artificial. Like we’re celebrating a moment that isn’t actually an ending or a beginning. A night pumped full of booze and fireworks, disturbing the sacred rest of winter, nature’s actual downtime, while pretending it means renewal.

But the shift that’s been building underneath all of that… that one I do feel.

Shedding season

Looking back, the past year (2025) really was shedding season.

Old skin, old layers, old versions: gone.

Not because I wanted to “work on myself”, but because something in me simply refused to fit into an old shape and it just kind of happened. It was intense. And it was time.

In hindsight, it carried strong Snake energy. Tightening. Shedding. No shortcuts. The kind of transition you don’t plan, it happens to you.

After my ‘coming out’ in my practice last summer came the strange in-between.
Not who I was, not yet who I’m becoming.

There was upheaval in systems. Old structures stopped holding. Even identities that had made perfect sense for years suddenly felt too small. The universe giving me a very clear, very firm nudge to continue shedding what no longer fit.

That liminal space isn’t comfortable.
But it’s honest.

And now… something else is coming in

And now… you can feel the Fire Horse energy coming in.

Not fully here yet, but unmistakably building.
With loud snoring and the drum of pounding hooves. Fasten your seatbelts.

Because Fire Horse energy is not the polite version of anything.

It doesn’t wait.
It doesn’t perform.
It doesn’t adapt to make people comfortable.

It moves when something inside says “now”, and it stops cooperating the moment the world demands too much.

The shift from Snake into Fire Horse isn’t subtle. It’s the movement from release into ignition. From letting go into forward motion. Heat. Direction. Force.

I know this energy well. I live with it.

I have a horse like that. Zaz. (Yeah, it is her in the picture!)

She is fire in horse form: autonomous, stunning, alert, uncompromising. You don’t force her. You don’t “manage” her. You meet her with respect, and if something in you resonates with her, she moves with you. If not, she steamrolls right through you.

No grey areas. No pretending. She doesn’t do performance, she does presence.

And if I’m honest: she is a lot like me.
Not in literal behaviour. In essence.

How I move. How I work.

I don’t move from pressure. I move from ignition.

I don’t guide people by giving them steps, but by bringing them back to themselves and letting their own steps surface.

I don’t follow the marketing and sales rules of the online world. I follow the pulse inside me that says, “This is the moment. Throw your heart on a plate and breathe your fire.”

The last cycle required a lot of necessary truth-telling with myself. Fun and uncomfortable at the same time.

But the cycle we’re entering has momentum.
The “don’t hold back” quality that has always lived inside of me, even when I wasn’t fully naming it yet.

Fire Horse energy doesn’t arrive to teach you something new.
It arrives to demand that you live what you already know.

This is the work

The people I work with feel that shift.

One of them wrote after a session:
“I booked one session out of support and curiosity. Turns out I booked a journey back to myself. I feel different. More accepting of myself as a whole.”

That’s the work.

People don’t come to me with a problem.
They come with a desire they haven’t dared to name yet.

The experience is light, safe and playful, even when we hit the deep stuff. And the shifts happen at identity level, not behaviour level.

Astrologers point to the period we’re moving into as a once-in-human-history ignition point. A planetary alignment powerful enough to shift civilizations. A collective “no going back”.

Cycles like these don’t flip on a single date. They announce themselves months in advance. First as discomfort. Then as clarity. Then as a refusal to wait any longer.

We’re in that threshold now.
Not at the finish line. Not at the starting gate.
Right in the moment where hesitation starts to feel heavier than movement.

And I mean it when I say: this is what I’m here for. To walk alongside you through this period, to help you navigate the intensity instead of getting swallowed by it, and to make sure you use the momentum instead of being used by it.

How you can step into this

I’m working on a low-threshold online programme, currently in its try-out phase. Small groups at first, later fully self-sourced. It’s about reach. About momentum. About people who are done abandoning themselves and ready to step into full agency. Lighting their fire one by one. A quiet revolution.

That programme might already be the spark you need. That’s why it is called SPARK.

And maybe you’ll feel: no, I want the depth too.

That’s available, but intentionally limited. I’m no longer filling my calendar wall to wall. I want space to write. The writing is going to carry this work far beyond sessions. That’s not delusion. That’s clarity.

Private online work:

IGNITE
One session.
For when something is pulling but you can’t name it yet.
We open it. You meet yourself. Things move.

MOMENTUM
Three sessions.
Where things settle in your system.
You act differently because you are different.

REWIRE
Five sessions.
For those who know it’s time to stop circling around themselves.
For those who feel the Fire Horse energy rising and want to live from it, not think about it.

You don’t need to be broken to begin.
You just need that small internal twitch that says “I’m done waiting for myself.”

If the last cycle stripped us down, the next one lights the match.

The only real question is not when the year begins, but this:

If this is true… then what are you doing about it?

You know where to find me.

Love, Annemarijn

The New World (No, Not the Floaty Version)

People keep asking me what I mean when I talk about the new world.

Fair question.
And no, I’m not talking about floating off into 5D, using New Age lingo, or redecorating your life to resemble a spiritual gift shop.

Even though it may sound a little New-Agy at first glance, my version of the so-called new world is actually refreshingly simple.

It’s about people choosing their own signal over the constant noise of the powers that be.

Like Politicians. Media. Internet. Priests. Scientists.Teachers. Systems.

It’s about remembering what’s the real you underneath everything you were taught to perform.

It’s deeply understanding how your choices shape your reality and then actually living like that matters. We can make this as quantum-theoretical as you like, or we can keep it brutally simple at its core.

And at the heart of it all is this:

YOU, refusing to let the stories of your past, your family line, or this society decide what your future will look like.

You get to break the script.
One decision at a time.

The Part Most People Skip Right Past

There’s a deeper layer most people conveniently overlook.

You are god/source/creator, in a human body.

Not metaphorically. Not “in theory.”

You actually are the power, the wisdom, and the energy people keep outsourcing to white-bearded old men on clouds, churches, gurus, influencers, and systems.

You never needed them, you don’t need to become anything.
You already are totally da bomb.

It was YOU the whole damn time.

So yes, at some point it’s time to stop philosophizing about it and start acting like it. Living it. Breathing it. Owning it.

Because once you see how much of the old world runs on fear, performance, pressure, and distraction, you can’t unsee it.

The cracks show, the façade wobbles and the whole f-ing Truman Show becomes obvious.

And there’s no going back to pretending you don’t notice.

The In-Between Is the Hardest Part

This is where a lot of people get stranded.

You don’t fit the old story anymore, but you’re still living in the middle of it. And that mismatch is exhausting.

You want a life on your own terms, but you keep sliding back into old habits.

You’ve done the healing, the searching, the “work on yourself.”

And still, something essential hasn’t clicked.

Your body is clear, but your mind keeps negotiating.

You want to think beyond the box, but the box has become muscle memory and it needs a hard reset.

And there’s this part of you that feels like you’re preparing for a future nobody around you can see yet. That part is getting louder every day.

Yes, it’s weird. And no, you’re not imagining it.

You’re not too sensitive, you’re not dramatic.

You’re just early with cracking the code.

What Actually Creates Change

What most people don’t need is more information, more techniques, or another framework to “get it right.”

What they need is space.

Space to drop the performance, space to stop self-editing, space to hear themselves again without the constant interference.

Space where power is not outsourced, and no, not even to someone like me creating the space.

That’s where clarity returns, where decisions land.
Where things stop staying theoretical and start becoming lived.

Real change doesn’t come from pushing harder.
It comes from resetting the signal and letting what’s true come back online.

Again and again.

You ARE the New World, Practically Speaking

The new world isn’t somewhere you go.

It’s how you choose.
How you relate to yourself, and how you stop negotiating with what you already know.

It’s living from alignment instead of approval.
From ownership instead of obedience.
From truth instead of performance.

It’s deeply human. Grounded. Clear.

And once you taste it, there’s no un-tasting it.

This is not an invitation to escape the world.
It’s an invitation to inhabit yourself fully, right in the middle of it.

How I Work (And Why People Choose to Work With Me)

If this lands, you probably don’t need more content, more theory, or another explanation of why the world is broken.

You already see it.

What usually does make the difference is having a place where you don’t have to explain yourself. Where you’re not being talked into a new identity or managed into a better version of yourself.

This is not me fixing you.
This is me holding space while you remember what you already know.

I work through conversation. Through presence. Through cutting through the noise until what’s true becomes obvious again.

No management bingo. No spiritual bingo. No pressure to perform or “get it right.”

People come to me when they feel early, out of sync, or done with outsourcing their power, but are still living inside a system that keeps pulling them back.

They don’t always come with a problem.
They come with a desire. A sense that something wants to move.

Working with me feels light, human, and surprisingly playful, even when the shift is deep. The effect is not at the level of symptoms, but at the level of identity.

Decisions land. The inner negotiating stops. Things align because they can’t nót align anymore.

If you’re done running a race you never signed up for, and you feel the pull to live this for real instead of thinking about it, then at some point, we’ll probably cross paths.

No rush. No funnel.
Just real people, real conversations with the right questions, and real movement.

Love, Annemarijn

People over algorithms. Thought of someone who needs this? Pass it on, and let this land where it belongs <3

The art of being true to yourself

In our society we talk a lot about community, connection, and togetherness.

But too often, that turns into a subtle pressure to blend in. To agree. To soften our edges so no one feels uncomfortable or excluded. We were taught that being yourself, is often considered selfish.

‘Self-centered’ says it all, a negative trait. The words alone probably give you an uncomfortable feeling.

To belong, you are expected to compromise. For the greater good. Being a good human means adjusting, staying agreeable, keeping the peace. But peace built on this form of sneaky suppression isn’t peace. It’s tension waiting to break.

Somewhere along the way, following the main narrative became the new form of safety. Having your own thoughts, using plain common sense, or asking honest questions started to feel dangerous.

It made you being judged and dismissed. Cancelled. Prosecuted even.

Which is pretty ironic while we live in a society where inclusivity is quite the hot topic. Obviously, only when it fits the right template du jour.

When you zoom out of all the polarization in our world, it becomes very clear: it isn’t about being right, it’s all about being real. It’s the quiet power of observing. Of daring to say “I don’t know.” Of standing in the space between opposing sides and realizing that neutrality isn’t apathy or disinterest, but wisdom.

When you stop rushing to take a position whenever you are being nudged by the media, you start to see and feel things as they are in your own pace. That’s where true discernment begins.

Let’s start with the basics: YOU

Carl Jung spoke of ‘individuation’. The process of becoming an individual, with your own identity and personality.

My humble interpretation: integrating every part of yourself so you can stand whole, certain, honest and connected, not half-hiding and apologetic. That’s what this era asks of us. Not louder opinions, but deeper integrity. Responsibility and accountability for yourself and your actions. Owning it all.

I often say I’m a simple woman (though my loved ones will happily argue otherwise). What I mean is: I naturally look for the essence rather than getting lost in layers of theory. Or rather, I FEEL the essence rather than rationalize it.

Growing up with a Jungian psychotherapist as a parent, I know how deep and layered individuation really is. There’s a whole universe of theories and books behind it.

But even in all that depth, for me, it comes down to this: staying true to yourself and having the courage to discover what that really means for you, beneath conditioning, expectations, roles, and the stories you inherited without noticing.

This doesn’t simplify Jung. It is just a lot of theory seen through my lens. Because for me, individuation, at its heart, isn’t intellectual.

It’s lived.

It is the deep work of recognizing where you’ve bent and lost yourself for belonging, where you’ve outsourced your knowing, where you’ve internalized someone else’s expectations, and then consciously returning to your own center.

Being your most authentic self doesn’t separate you from others, or makes you a danger to others. It makes you capable of real connection, of being a true anchor in a relationship, in society. Because once you are comfortable standing in your truth: speaking it, breathing it, living it, you stop needing to be acknowledged, included, or approved of.

When you move from your own center, you can hold complexity and duality.
You can love without losing yourself, you can listen without judging.
You can stand strong amidst the storm of heavy polarization, conflict, and all the shadows of our world.

The more we remember who we are, the more we belong.
Individual truth doesn’t divide, it actually stabilizes the field.

This isn’t about standing apart. It’s about standing whole. In all your funky weirdness, your mess, your light, and your darkness. Observing. Listening. Thinking clearly. Feeling.

From that place, compassion and living together with other human beings becomes honest, not strategic.

It starts, as always, with the man in the mirror. (thank you, MJ!)

What I have to offer in this 'becoming' is not a luxury item.
I want to zoom out of our every day hustle, together with all of you. To give words to the deepest felt realizations. To find your inner fire, your truth, the things that bring a spark in your eye and a spring in your step.

Every day you spend ‘existing’ while you feel ‘off’ drains your energy, your money, your joy, your expansion, your possibility.

It keeps you looping inside an identity you’ve already outgrown. And every day you postpone your evolution, the cost is pretty high.

Why? Because your choices don’t just shape your own life. They shape your children’s lives. And they shape the future of humanity. It has an enormous ripple effect.

Big words, right? Yep.
But they’re real and it gives me goosebumps to even write it down.

And here’s my role in all of this, as far as my human self can understand it right now: I’m here to stand next to you. To speak, to write, to broadcast, to guide. To create a field for people who feel the undeniable itch.

As you can read in this piece of my heart (aka blog). These writings are one part of my work.

I am totally at ease with being the weird woman now. Being misunderstood. Because I am speaking from my own truth. And because I know I am just early. It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it, hahaha!

My work is meant for those of you who are done virtue signalling, tired of being an acceptable version of themselves and who are ready to live from truth.

I’ve been feeling the nudge towards starting a whole movement, for the ones who feel this shift in their bones and know they’re not meant to navigate it alone. And having a lot of fun in the proces too! Be ready for a lot of aha-moments.

Let’s start small and play big!

If your body lights up reading this, let me know!

Let’s build what’s actually true. Together.

Love, Annemarijn

Back to the future

You didn’t come here to escape being human

There are quite a lot of people walking around right now who don’t quite fit anywhere. 

They feel ancient, as if they have lived a million lives and carry codes and memories they can’t explain.

At the same time, they feel futuristic, tuned into something that hasn’t fully arrived yet, something they can sense but not quite name. They feel the old powerstructures cracking and, instead of mourning that, they’re quietly celebrating. You might be one of them.

You’re not here to adapt to a broken system. You’re here to remember something older than time itself and use it to create what’s coming next.

Somewhere deep inside, the future is stirring.

And I don’t mean the digital or AI kind of future. Not the one where we keep outsourcing our power and be controlled in every part of our lives. I am talking about the one where we remember what it’s like to own our lives again. A future that’s not about proving, obeying, pleasing, or pushing.

Just real people being real together.

You can feel it under your skin, the remembering and the becoming, ancient wisdom moving through your body that’s at the same time still trying to keep up with the pace and demands of everyday life. 

But here’s the thing: you didn’t come here to be controlled and neither did you come here to escape this human experience.

You came here to live it.

Not to float above your feelings. Not to cry, grieve, or rant politely in private. Not to be only love and light, but also to embrace the dark parts of life.

You came here to be in it, to touch it all: the mess, the magic, the pain, the joy, and the wonder that comes with being fully alive.

Embodiment isn’t at all about perfection. It’s about presence.

It’s about breathing fire into your daily life, feeling everything that moves through you, and staying open even when it’s uncomfortable.

This is what being human was meant to be: not “high vibe only,” but fully felt.

To feel the whole damn thing: the love and the loss, the beauty and the shit of it. To cling to people and things you know you can lose. To break open, cry snot and tears, to be hungry, tired, cold, turned on, pissed off, alive. 

To be wildly in love, to hold another warm body in your arms, to dance and sing, to walk in nature, to feel the wind whipping your hair, to dig in the soil with your bare hands, to feel the sun on your skin. to enjoy good food and take good care of yourself and each other.

Being human isn’t clean or enlightened. It’s muddy and magnificent and heartbreakingly real. 

The new world isn’t arriving through more digital control or through endless cycles of healing and self-improvement. It’s arriving through real people who are here, in their bodies, willing to feel everything and still choose to love anyway.

The world doesn’t need more perfect beings floating above the mess; it needs humans who can hold love ín the mess. People who can walk through pain without losing their humanity, people who can hold both shadow and light and dare to feel both at once.

Take a breath. 

You don’t have to rush this.

We are returning and moving forward at the same time. Time was never linear anyway. You are here to bring heaven to earth. You are the bridge, the ancient and the future embodied in one human form.

Right now, we’re in some kind of vacuum. 

The old world is dissolving: its systems, values, and illusions collapsing under their own weight, often with a lot of noise and a desperate last powergrab.

The new world hasn’t fully landed yet, and that in-between can feel really strange. It’s easy to think something’s wrong, that you’ve lost your way or fallen behind.

But this space ís the way. It’s the cocoon where transformation happens.

You’re remembering what’s real while unlearning what never was. You’re letting go of everything that kept you small, distracted, or disconnected from your own knowing.

We can’t rush or enforce this part. We can only stay present in it, fully human, fully feeling, and trusting.

Right now is the time that has been whispered about for eons: the turning point, the great return.

We are here to hold the line, to stay present in the middle of it, and to remember that this is not collapse, it’s rebirth. What a time to be alive!

Everything you just read is not theory. It’s happening in real time, right now, in your body, in your choices, in your life. 

What I am offering is a space to observe yourself: to stop surviving and get real. To see where you’re still fighting life instead of living it. To clear the noise so you can stand firm and move forward with both feet on the ground.

We get practical. We look at what’s actually happening: in your body, your choices, your days. What needs to end. What needs to begin.

And we move.

If you feel the pull, don’t wait for the perfect moment. That’s the old world talking, and it keeps you nice and quiet in your old story. 

I’m inviting you. Let’s get started to find out what this looks like for you.

Check out what I have to offer here:

Love, Annemarijn

Dracarys

Humanity Is Conditioned to Play It Safe

To not take too many risks.
To stay part of the herd.
To survive.

And for a big part, it works. This ancient, reptilian part of your brain has helped humans survive through the ages.
But survival was never meant to be the end goal. Even back then, people had to venture out, to find food, partners, new territory.

That instinct to stay safe is ancient.
And it’s being hijacked by the one percent of our leaders who prefer to keep the ninety-nine percent nice and quiet.

The Golden Cage

Your safe cave, the one that feels so familiar, is also what keeps you small.

Because it can be reaaallly cozy in there. Lined with a beautiful house (and a killing mortgage or rent plus taxes), nice clothes, good food, holidays, a bit of Netflix, and an “okay” job.

Bread and circuses: it looks like comfort, but it’s still a cave.
A golden cage built on fear, disguised as “having it together.”

It holds you back from your dreams, your truth, and the kind of life that makes you feel fully alive.

The Inconvenient Truth

Remember the curfew during the pandemic?
That, too, felt pretty cozy for many. A glass of good red wine, a thrilling Netflix series, sitting in your onesie by the woodstove.

Surpassing the fact that you were locked up in your own home while being perfectly healthy.
A pretty luxurious, homely prison-facility.

Does that trigger you? Good. It’s meant to. Because it’s the perfect example.

FEAR is the biggest obstacle on the road to becoming who you really are, and the biggest tool in the box to keep us under control.

Our entire society runs on fear. Just turn on the news.
(Or better yet, don’t. Million-dollar tip right there.)

Fear. Division. Polarization. Divide and conquer.
As old as time.

Who Profits From Your Fear?

While the one percent feeds off the energy of our fear and smallness, their pockets grow deeper.
And ours? Empty.

Not just financially. Emotionally too.

Love, joy, freedom, compassion, sovereignty, they are all forms of energy.
And most of us give that energy away daily, voluntarily.

Here’s the tricky part: most of our life choices are made out of fear.

Fear vs Freedom

Make a list of what you truly want in life, what you want to do, who you want to be.
Then ask yourself: why am I not already doing or being that?

The answer is always: fear.

How to step out of fear?
We blow up the whole safe cave.

Not just to peek out.
No. We plant a big stick of energetic dynamite and blow the whole thing up.

Because beyond that edge lies magic and freedom.

I’m not asking you to be reckless.
I’m asking you to MOVE.

Feel the Fear and Move Anyway

I know what it’s like to live in fear. I still do, often.
But I’ve looked it in the eye.

I’ve chosen to speak my truth and do my own thing, even when it made me stand out like a sore thumb.
Even when my voice trembled.
Even when people disliked me. (That one stung, trust me.)

But I’m still here.
And I kept moving.

Sometimes in big quantum leaps, sometimes in baby steps.

I feel the fear and do it anyway.

And every time I do, I step a little further out of the fear-based system.
Like the total badass rebel that lives somewhere deep inside you, too.

Step Out of the Divide

Zoom out for a second. Look at how the game is played.
Who drives the divide? Who profits from our infighting?

Stepping out of that boobytrap: divide et impera, is pure liberation.

And no, it’s not inhumane to stop fighting, as long as you don’t stop caring.

The boldest act of resistance is to stand in your truth, power, and love.
Even when you’re a raging dragon inside.
Especially then.

Dracarys

I love to tell myself “Dracarys”, very often.
Also while writing a story like this.

‘Dracarys’ is the old Valyrian word for dragonfire. (Yeah, Game of Thrones. I watched it because I’m in desperate need of more dragons in my life.)

I have a lot of dragonblood running through my veins.
I thrive on that inner fire, I need it to feel urgency, to get moving, writing, evolving, caring.

This dragonblood is also an ancient reptilian part of our system, and it’s about time we ignite the shit out of it.

But direct your fire wisely.
Alchemize your rage into power, the power to change yourself, and by doing so, to change the world.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions by “nice” and decent people who play by the rules.
The road to heaven, straight back to source?
That one is paved by loving, sovereign souls who dare to search for light and truth and blaze their inner fire.

Rise and Expand

Is it scary and challenging to rise and expand? Hell yes.
Will you still feel fear? Absolutely.
Does it have repercussions from people and systems around you? For sure.

But only from people and systems that thrive on your smallness.

You can decide to step out of this default position of fear.
Not expecting problems, but expecting possibilities.

Take aligned action.
Surround yourself with cheerleaders for your growth.

First step: acknowledge that you have been taking fear-based decisions.
Next step: action.

It will get easier as we grow, rise, and evolve, together with a growing number of people who dare to step into their loving and fierce power.

I’m Not All-Knowing. I’m Walking Beside You.

I’m here on this earth, in this human body, on a very clear mission: to guide you to the next level of freedom.

Not through edgy marketing funnels or manipulative sales strategies. That takes way too much of my precious energy and fire.

Because I know that when I breathe my fire and share my truth, the right people will feel it, light up by it, and start to move.

If that’s you, stop waiting.
If this story lit something inside you: good.

That’s your dragonfire waking up.
When you’re ready to move, you’ll know.

Follow that. Explore, connect, read, reach out: wherever it takes you.
Everything you need is already waiting for you on my website.
Dracarys. Move.

Love, Annemarijn

People over algorithms. Thought of someone who needs this? Pass it on, and let this land where it belongs.

Identity and the Illusion of “Good Enough”

We’re raised to choose a path long before we even know who we are.

Pick a study. Pick a job. Pick a mortgage. Pick a life.

At sixteen or eighteen, you’re asked to make choices that shape your income, your worth, your self-image — all before you’ve even met your true genius, let alone been guided toward it. Before you’ve seen what life really is about, or all the possibilities it holds.

And somehow, we’re expected to stick to that plan until the gold watch or retirement.

All the while hustling for money, and being grateful for weekends, Netflix, and holidays. Yes, you lead a good life. But still, that quiet gnawing feeling of not enough never really leaves. And it’s as random as it sounds.

The illusion of choice

Does this sound a little exaggerated? Maybe. But I challenge you to look back — to look inward — and observe yourself and the choices you made. From what place were those choices made?

You built an identity around those early decisions. Some of them just seemed to have happened to you.

Now you measure yourself in billable hours, salary, productivity, performance reviews.
You get good at it. Maybe even successful.

But somewhere deep inside, there’s that whisper:
“Good enough is not enough.”

When “adulting” becomes self-erasure

Because somehow, you got stuck in the hustle.

Not enough money to be free.
Not enough time.
Not enough energy for the things that make you feel alive.
Not enough rest.
Not enough presence.
Not enough fire.
Not enough space for stillness, for art, for curiosity, for the part of you that remembers who you were before all this.

We call it being an adult.
In school, you were trained to get used to it — to understand “how things work in the real world.”

But let’s be honest: why should you settle for that story?
You decide how your own adult life works.
You can step out of the loop anytime and make a change.

We built lives around versions of ourselves that were never meant to carry that much weight, and then we wonder why they crack one day.

Your spirit doesn’t care about your LinkedIn headline

Here’s the truth: your spirit couldn’t care less about your LinkedIn headline.

It cares about resonance. About the frequency of being fully alive.

So maybe the question isn’t “Am I doing enough?”
Maybe it’s “Am I being enough?”

And I don’t mean fame or status. I mean that deep, unmistakable sense of being fully here — body, mind, energy, purpose.

If you’re reading this thinking, “I know there’s more, but I can’t quite name it,” that’s not failure.
That’s your true self rearing its head.

Awareness first.
Then action.

Identity is not your job title

Identity isn’t your job title.
It’s not your follower count, your bank account, or your business model.

It’s something far greater — it stretches beyond lifetimes, beyond dimensions, beyond this flat system of work, money, and perpetual hustle.

So… who are you really?
And how would the ultimate version of you show up to totally nail the time you have on this earth?

I’d love to find out.
Because clarity on the most basic question of all opens up an entire universe of opportunities.

This is not me fixing you

This is you remembering who you were before the world told you to behave.

Truly seeing what sets you on fire. Following your bliss and acknowledging your dreams and obsessions for what they are: direction.

You are god consciousness in a human suit, fully alive. Why settle for less?

Change doesn’t take time.
It’s a decision.
The time is now.

Are you in?
Spots are limited since I’m only working one-on-one online for now.
I’m here, waiting for you to say YES, and explore it together.

Love, Annemarijn

People over algorithms. Thought of someone who needs this? Pass it on, and let this land where it belongs ❤️

New Era, Your Time to Rise

Inconvenient truth: you did not come to earth, as pure god consciousness in a human suit, to be a small, obedient brick in the wall.

Your ancestors fought for survival and freedom. Some were burned at the stake for it. All so that you could stand in your power and embody all that ancient truth. And deep down, you know it.

Is this you?

You have a quite good life, but deep inside something feels off.
You are competent at work, but it isn’t yóur work.
You lost sight of your mission and forgot how to dream — because you were never fully allowed to.
You live with a constant sense of scarcity, even when the fridge is full.
You self-sabotage to avoid friction.
You play small so people keep liking you.
You want to do less and be more, but the treadmill is relentless.
You don’t fit the system, yet you still have to live in it.
You miss direction, courage, voice, and conviction.
You want sovereignty but don’t know how to embody it.
You hop from problem to problem and can’t see the infinite possibilities.
You want a life on your terms — and still pay the bills.
You want to stay true without being pulled into the world’s polarity.
You feel ancient threads calling deep in your bones and want access to that wisdom.

You are ready for change.
Ready to be fully yourself.

The great unraveling

Right now, systems are cracking. Millions are waking up. The false program unravels. These times call for people who choose to live from their true self. Who remember their ancient power and wisdom. Who activate the full blast of their DNA.

Standing in your truth will strip away what isn’t aligned and release an infinite field of possibilities. Is it scary to leap? For the old you, maybe. But this is the pivotal moment in time to step into the next upgraded version of you.

Make it count.

The ripple effect of standing in your truth

You’ll know this is working because your life starts reflecting your choices.
You start to exit the matrix of fear and stop leaking energy.
Decisions get made faster, with less drama.
Work becomes cleaner or gets replaced.
Money conversations stop being a battlefield.
Conversations that once scared you become clear.
Boundaries become quiet and firm.
Health stabilizes when the nervous system stops sprinting.
Creativity returns.
You start leading, not managing or coping.

The outside world reads this as confidence. To you, it feels like home.
The people who matter will notice. You will feel it first.

This is not coaching. This is remembrance.

What I do goes beyond coaching and healing; it is about action and remembrance.
No new-age fluff or management lingo. This is deep play and clean conversation with you and your source.

I cut through the noise and get you moving, now. Expect clear questions, clean language, grounded meditation, and micro-actions that make the shift real, all with ease, grace, and a good pinch of laughter.

This is not me fixing you.
This is you remembering who you were before the world told you to behave.

Truly seeing what sets you on fire. Following your bliss and acknowledging your dreams and obsessions for what they are: direction.

You are god consciousness in a human suit, fully alive, deeply loving, forgiving, and absolutely not a pushover.

Change doesn’t take time

It is a decision. The time is now.

Time to collapse the story of struggle, the endless healing, the digging for reasons why it won’t work.
Time to unleash your full power.

I only work with clients who are all in and yelling “hell yes” at the screen right now.

When you’re ready to stop waiting and start living on your own terms, that’s where I come in.

No comparison. No category. Just truth.

I’m not here to convince you to give this a go. This is what I’ve been working toward since forever: guiding people like you, in this exact moment in human history, back to themselves.

Sounds cocky? Maybe ;-)
This is me standing in my truth in wildly challenging and exciting times.

Is there a type of expert to compare me to? I don’t think so. I am a category of one.

New eras bring new specialists for new challenges. I consider myself one of them. I am as human as you are, navigating the same path, but I also fully know what I am capable of.

And this is it.

The invitation

So here I am, speaking my truth and offering myself on a silver platter.
And I am well aware that my message goes way beyond what most people find normal or acceptable.

Does that feel scary? Not anymore. This is inevitable for me. I need to do this.

And by doing so, I am inviting you to step up in your own unique way.

If this is the guidance you’ve been searching for, you’ll know. And then we will hit the ground running.

When you’re ready to start living by your own playbook, that’s where I come in.

Are you in?

Spots are limited since I’m only working one-on-one online for now.
Let’s go, and see how good and how cool it can get.
The real cost is in waiting and second-guessing while your whole body already said YES.

Love, Annemarijn

People over algorithms. Thought of someone who needs this? Pass it on, and let this land where it belongs <3

Lioness, Unleashed: What Grief, a Broken System, and a Global Freak Show Taught Me About Power

I have something painful to share, and I am sharing it anyway. It changed how I see life and my place in it.

From people-pleaser to ghost

I used to be a certified people pleaser, the nice girl next door with the big smile. I shaped myself around everyone else, making sure they were comfortable, running on self-erasure I called service, pretending I was fine. The ideal healthcare professional on paper.

It emptied me out. Not because of the people I met, but because of how I kept abandoning myself inside a system that rewarded overgiving and underpaying. The format, the hours, the rules, the nonstop stories and needs and energetics — all of it. I could hold space for a village and still go home feeling like a ghost in my own life.

The underworld of grief

Then the unthinkable happened. We lost our newborn son after almost 48 hours. My husband and I fell into the deepest, darkest pit of despair, devastation and grief imaginable. And we survived.

There is an underworld to grief that does not care about polite conversation or tidy coping strategies. It strips you. It leaves only what is true.

I decided then and there I would never again be swallowed by narrow-mindedness or small-minded respectability. No fussing over the irrelevant to keep the peace. No small talk to avoid the real. No work or circles that do not earn my energy. Me and my family first. What truly matters gets my life force.

The unglamorous aftermath

That reads powerful on the page. The unglamorous part is the aftermath. People who felt sorry for me and still needed their rightful big piece of me, preferably fast. People eager to tell me their grief stories while I was still carrying mine. So I stapled the smile back on and delivered, even when I had nothing left to give. The show must go on, right?

The lioness awakens

Apparently, I needed one more major kick in the butt. I had already been quietly questioning things, diving into rabbit holes few people want you to mention at dinner. Then March 2020 rolled in. Not the disease as such, but the way power handled it and the way society complied.

Something primal in me was poked awake. The lioness rose.

My bottom line has always been the same: do not touch or harm my children. Do not undermine my sovereignty as a mother. Full stop.

Turning shit into gold

If I could skip the grief and upheaval, I would. And still, it forged me. It sped up what I was inching toward in my comfortable, polite pace. It propelled me. I would not trade the growth, the expanded awareness, the clean sense of sovereignty it brought.

This, to me, is real alchemy. Turning shit into gold. Not abstract. Lived.

So I do not fuss about the unimportant now. I keep my energetic sanity. I live on my terms. Not because I am cold or mean — though if you only knew the old people-pleaser without boundaries, you might think so.

I choose this because I want to live well and model that for my kids. I want to be a good human in the truest way I know, aligned with my principles even when the world would prefer I soften, change or stay quiet. A human full of love, laughter and gratefulness, but not a pushover.

The uncorked bottle

My life and choices have to match my spirit. When you feel that click, strong and undeniable, that is your source speaking. That is the real deal. Once you know, you cannot unknow. The bottle is uncorked.

I am not here to turn anyone into an activist b*tch. I am here to guide you to stand 100 percent in your truth and power and to navigate every part of your life by that compass.

These first steps run deep, because real sovereignty reshapes everything: relationships, work, how you spend your hours and your energy. I am bringing all of me, on my terms, as promised.

This is not your usual empowerment fluff; no coaching lingo, no corporate dialect. No endless sales pitch, no marketing funnels, no endless discussions in DMs. You are game or you are not. Simple as that.

If this is meant for you, you do not need convincing. Not about my method, not about the details. Your bones already know. This is big and ancient.

What you get, for real

No fixes. This: a switch. After that, you cannot go back to small. The genie is out, and she does not do cages.

Love, Annemarijn

The painting is made by Ewa Rzeznik. It is not made especially fór me, but to me, it is. My son Klaasje and me, standing on the shore. Him wearing the little woollen skipper jacket I already had bought for him, which he never got to wear in real live…

When I saw it standing on the ground in an art gallery, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I NEEDED this painting in our home. So happy we could purchase it!

Dream BIG…

Daydreams aren’t fluff. They are signals.

In the forest my dog found a branch the size of a small tree and decided it was coming with us. Dogs don’t wait, debate or hesitate. They just do it. I laughed, and then the penny dropped. Do you know that click when truth lands, and you can feel it in your body?

Cracks in the cave

This is expansion. Your system chooses more than it used to carry, and your old “safe cave” can’t hold it anymore. First there are hairline cracks, then light slips in through the seams. Is it too late to stay safely small? Yes. The genie is out of the bottle. You already blew your own cave open.

For a moment it feels scary, you feel stretched. Then your eyes adjust. Any bears or sabre-toothed tigers waiting in the dark? No. There’s a view. There are infinitely many paths you couldn’t see when the walls felt solid and close. And they all feel good. Your belly flutters with anticipation.

Let your daydreams lead

This is where the good old daydreams return. When did you learn to push them away? At school, productivity got the stars and obedience got the praise, so ideas were trimmed to what is normal, realistic and inoffensive. The spark dimmed. Life filled up. Empty spaces got eaten by busyness and a quick scroll. Maybe you built a good life that still doesn’t quite fit. You feel most alive on weekends and holidays.

But now, your cave is cracked. And there is no way back.

Unplug from the program with me and dare to explore. Your daydreams are not fluff, they are signals. When we listen, they become direction. We find where resistance sits in your system, we let it go, and you move forward as yourself. Simple, grounded, often playful. Does that sound like relief?

How we roll

We meet, you move, you integrate. That’s why this works in all its simplicity. You don’t need me as your fixer, holding your hand every step of the way. You need a loving push and someone who loves to daydream with you — and who facilitates and spurs you to embodied action.

Ready to step in? Book your spot here.
[https://portal.annemarijnlaan.nl/thankyou-bookasession-email]

With love,
Annemarijn

People over algorithms. Thought of someone who needs this? Pass it on, and let this land where it belongs <3

P.S. I spent years with horses, finding tension and restriction, releasing it, and getting the animal moving. Now I do the same in my conversations with people.

How much good can you handle? Let’s find out.

Meditation — and all my issues with it

If the word “meditation” makes you go meeeeh, this one’s for you

In this story I want to do a little deep dive on meditation. Maybe not for the seasoned pros who sit with gurus and monks. I’m writing this for everyone who hears the word and thinks “meeeeh.” Like me.

How I grew up with it

I grew up in a spiritual household. My parents (who I love and respect to the moon and back) have always meditated. We went to weekends with like-minded people and, among other things, they meditated. And it was silent. We, the children, had to be very quiet while playing outside. Which we did not want to be. Naturally we became bigger little terrors than we already were. Balance, heh.

I have warm memories of those weekends and the people there. We also saw a parade of New Age types drift in and out: some funny, some terribly annoying, some very “holy.” As kids we made a lot of fun of it. (Yep, not very holy…)

Now that I’m older, I have renewed respect for all of them trying to do the right thing. The odd ones, the sensitive ones, the weird ones. It gave me a wider perspective on the world and everything above. It is part of who I am.

Why classic meditation never fit me

The concept of meditation always carried a push-away for me. As if I wasn’t capable, worthy, or holy enough. Tell me to think of nothing and my mind opens three thousand tabs. And I wasn’t sparing fifteen minutes a day to sit still. Too busy living life… doing a lot of pretty meditative things, actually.

It took me time to realise there are a billion ways to meditate. For me it’s contemplation and reflection. Letting the mind wander. Looking inward. Getting fantastic ideas. AHA’s. Thinking about life. And beyond life. The world, the universe, the multiverse. My children. Dinner. Is that a buzzard? Where is its nest? Is it going to rain? You see where this is going… I wander off in minutes. And it’s all fine. Daydreaming on steroids.

My way in: moving, muddy, alive

The best way for me to reach that contemplative state is not a lotus position on a yoga mat, a church, or an ashram. It’s grounded, earthly things. In nature. With animals. Walking my dog. Riding. Shovelling endless wheelbarrows of horse sh*t. Dirty hands, wet boots. Outside. In wind, rain, and sunshine.

I dare say many of the best ideas in the world stem from a woman, a windy field, and a wheelbarrow.
Also while stirring pots when I cook. Driving. Showering. Those moments where your mind wanders and you slip into another state of consciousness. You end up with inspired ideas and insights. (Keep your voice recorder handy.)

Why this works in sessions

These meditative techniques made their way into my client sessions, and they’re da bomb. We zoom out above the noise. We observe. We step off the rational hamster wheel and the everyday programming. Straight to source: your inner compass. We touch something ancient. We remember. We feel. We turn down the whirr of daily life and the rational brain. What really matters shows itself.

It leads to wonderful experiences, clear ideas and visions. Straight to the point where it matters. Ideas and action steps come from a totally aligned place, where you are whole. And ideas from that place lead to immediate action. Without overthinking. Without the limiting beliefs. Without the fluff.

It’s fun to practice. Anyone can master this in their own way and see what works best.

I’ll be with you to keep it bite-sized. I ask the right questions and give you simple tools to turn vision into action steps you can start right away.

Ready?

Are you in? Let’s go and see where it leads you — to see how good and how cool it can get. The real cost is in waiting and second-guessing while your whole body already said YES.

With love,
Annemarijn

People over algorithms. Thought of someone who needs this? Pass it on, and let this land where it belongs ❤️